


Break some bread for all my sins

by ropememory



Series: Pretty Lies, Ugly Truth [2]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Light Bondage, Mild Degradation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ropememory/pseuds/ropememory
Summary: “If Carol had ever been as good at following orders as Yon-Rogg was right now, then maybe her life would have turned out a bit different.”





	Break some bread for all my sins

**Author's Note:**

> If the dubious (non)consent is too much, I recommend reading it as role play. Technically a continuation of “Pretty Lies, Ugly Truth” but can stand alone. Title from “Blood in the Cut” by K.Flay

Yon-Rogg doesn’t know how long it’s been—Carol keeps him locked away in a windowless room. Says she can’t trust him to know where, exactly, in space they are. His body is use to jump points, knows they’ve passed through at least a few since he’s been down here. There’s something to be said for Carol’s usage of torture technique, and Yon-Rogg recognizes it for what it is. His body has started to develop a Pavlovian association to her presence. 

It hadn’t taken much—he quickly learned to be hyper aware of the sound of the door unlocking, to slide into place before she opened it. The threat of her hands, the power coursing through them, lightly caressing the side of his face while always keeping the implicit threat that she wouldn’t hesitate to unleash more if he didn’t do as she pleased. The irony didn’t escape him during the long hours when he had nothing to do but think. As much as he had lectured her to control herself, control the powers when they were inhibited...now that they were full force within her, she was working on wielding them with much more finesse. It would be impressive if he wasn’t on the receiving end of them. 

A key being placed into the lock broke into his thoughts, and Yon-Rogg moved so the first thing she’d see when she opened the door was him on his knees, hands behind his back, head down. 

When she opened the door, all he could really see was from her knees down—but it was _different_ this time.

—

Carol almost wished she’d kept the suit on. She didn’t physically need it, but emotionally and mentally it felt more like the armor it was. For what she had planned, however, the suit would just be a hindrance, so jeans and a t-shirt it was. Tossing a ration pack onto the floor in front of Yon-Rogg, she went over to the bed and sat on it, moving so her heel pressed into the junction where his neck met his shoulder, crossing her other leg over it to increase the pressure and use Yon-Rogg’s body as a makeshift footrest. Sneakers weren’t as effective, and she wasn’t quite a fan of the aesthetics, but pretty soon it wouldn’t matter. 

Yon-Rogg didn’t reach for the ration pack, although from her vantage point he could see his fingers flexing as if he wanted to. Carol had a vague notion of the last time he’d had food, but she didn’t always remember to feed herself timely, let alone him, when she was in the middle of a mission. The part of her she kept fed by coming down here and that knew the ruthlessness of war felt it was perfectly acceptable for a prisoner to be neglected. 

“I’ve got something else for you to eat, first,” Carol said. Her voice always sounded different down here, more callous. The flicker of surprise on Yon-Rogg’s face was quick, and if she hadn’t been watching she likely would have missed it. 

She dug her heel in a bit, watching him wince as he struggled to stay upright, before taking her feet off his body. Reaching under the bed, she pulled out the box and opened it to remove the rope. Moving to kneel behind him, Carol quickly restrained Yon-Rogg’s arms behind him. She pulled the rope up and pressed a hand to his back, tilting him forward. When Carol was satisfied all he could see was the floor, she toed off her shoes and slid off her jeans and underwear, heart pounding with anticipation and a slight edge of anxiety. Once she did this, there likely wasn’t any going back. 

Carol walked around to the front of Yon-Rogg, knocking the ration pack out of the way, the positioning reminding her of the first time she saw him like this. The flash of heat that had sparked then came back, stronger after the months she had spent cultivating it. She leaned over to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him up, watching as he realized what she was no longer wearing. 

“I suggest you do a good job,” Carol said, flinging one of her legs over his shoulder and pulling him into her crotch. “Or I might just forget to untie you before I leave.”

—

Yon-Rogg breathed in the scent of her, infinitely preferring it to the floor only moments before. This was new; in all his years serving the Supreme Intelligence, nothing like this had transpired (for good reason, the part of his brain that protested how quickly he kept acquiescing to Carol reminded him). 

The hand on the back of his head tightened its grip. “ _Now,_ ” Carol threatened, “or are you so useless you don’t know how?”

Tentatively Yon-Rogg let himself taste her, tongue gently tracking along the path of her labia, moving up to her clit as much as the grip she had on him allowed. 

—

It wasn’t quite enough, Carol thought. Every touch was too light, and that wasn’t what she was in the mood for. “More pressure,” she said, releasing some of the tension on his hair when he obeyed. His tongue felt _good,_ especially as he dipped it inside her right before the upstroke. She slid her hand to the side of his face, cupping him at the chin when he reached her clit. “Stay there. Same motion.”

If Carol had ever been as good at following orders as Yon-Rogg was right now, then maybe her life would have turned out a bit different. The edge of anxiety had receded, replaced with a growing sense of urgency and pleasure. She released his chin, and Yon-Rogg took that as permission to go back to savoring all of her. 

He didn’t stop the first time she came, just upped the pressure of his tongue against her, until she took her leg off him and pushed him away. His eyes looked unfocused, and his clothes didn’t hide that on some level it had worked for him, too. Carol walked a bit unsteadily behind him, putting her clothes back on. She trailed a finger down Yon-Rogg’s spine and a shiver passed through him. Leaning close to his ear, she started undoing the ropes. “What do you say?” Carol asked. 

Yon-Rogg’s tongue darted out to taste her against his lips. “Thank you, Captain.”

Carol hmm’d in the closest she got to approval, put the rope back in the box and slid it under the bed, before walking out and locking the door behind her.


End file.
